Black Converse
by Animagus Anonymous
Summary: Muggle!AU Ron is addicted to a video game and has made a good friend online. They plan to meet in real life. Written for the Houses Competition and Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry Challenges and Assignments forums. Please read, review, follow, and favorite!


**A.N.: So, this is a Muggle!AU where Harry and Ron meet and bond over video games!**

 **This is for the Slytherin House in the Houses Competition forum, round 1 as a themed story, and Hufflepuff House in the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry Challenges and Assignments forum for the Insane House . The characters are not mine nor do they belong to me, but the game is entirely made up by me for the purposes of this story.**

 **Prompts:**

 **Houses Competition: (themed) laptop**

 **Challenges and Assignments 1000 prompts: 33. Ronald Weasley**

 **Challenges and Assignments 365 prompts: 146. (Genre) Friendship**

 **Word count: 3,320**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

roonilwazlib: how's ur health?

lightningbolt2000: okay. hbu?

roonilwazlib: meh. I'll take the left ones, you take right?

lightningbolt2000: k :)

The little lava monster on the screen moved to the left side of the bridge as Ron pressed down the up and left arrow keys, and with the press of the s key, it drew its sword, ready to defend the palace from the oncoming Mire Grendels. On the right side of the screen, he saw his friend's swirling, blue water spirit taking up its post and drawing its sword as well.

As soon as the Grendels were in range, the water spirit attacked. Moving with speed, it wove through the gray, horned beings, leaving a steady stream of carnage in its wake. The spirit carved a path through the army and veered right, into the woods, and a section of enraged Grendels followed.

It was now Ron's lava monster's turn. As a fire being, he could only burn things, but the Grendels, earth beings, could not be burned. And water, his weakness, was right under him, a whole ocean of it. Plus, speed, another of his weaknesses, was crucial.

This plan was… risky.

As the mouse panned down, the screen shifted to look down at the river, where a glimmer showed the water spirit streaking across to lead the Grendels that had followed it to their deaths. There was no delaying now.

Readying his fingers on the turn and speed keys, Ron pressed L, and the sword was launched out of his hand. It sank itself in the center of the army, and a wounded screech told him the sword had found its mark. The rest of the Grendels stared in shocked silence at the body in their midst. They'd be upon him in a minute. Now.

The lava monster turned and Ron slammed his middle finger against the up key as hard as he could, making it sprint across the wooden bridge. There was no time to check behind him to see whether the plan had worked, and though his energy levels were depleting alarmingly fast, it would be suicide to stop running now. Time seemed to slow down and Ron's tunnel vision increased as he stared at the stone ledge the bridge was connected to. Just a little more…

The lava monster was safe on solid land, and not a moment too soon. Its energy bar flashed red and read only 5%. Ron quickly fed the monster some energy pellets before he remembered the whole point of the run. He turned around and…

The bridge had burned away to nothing behind him, leaving his Grendel pursuers in a gaping chasm with only the deadly ocean at the bottom. Just as they'd planned, the Grendels had fallen and died, leaving the palace safe once more.

Back in real life, Ron leaned back against the couch in satisfaction. Ever since he'd gotten the laptop as a birthday present a few months before, he'd been perusing the internet almost nonstop, and once he'd discovered Natural Defenders, he was sucked into the world of Grendels and spirits, monsters and castles. When he was alone, his addiction had no end. Sometimes he even forgot to eat, which was a large feat considering his usual appetite.

He was jolted back to the world of ND when there was a small ping from his laptop. He tilted the screen and looked at the message from his partner.

lightningbolt2000: mission success?

Ron smiled and typed back.

roonilwazlib: yup :) everything went according to plan

Ron and "lightningbolt2000" had met over the internet on ND. Both newbies, they'd formed a friendship over figuring out the game and advancing through the levels. In just a few short months, they'd become almost experts, and they'd been working on this level, level 26, for almost 2 weeks. Now, it felt like Ron knew the guy in real life.

lightiningbolt2000: awesome! Level 27?

Ron was about to type back when he heard the jangle of keys right outside the door. Hermione was home.

roonilwazlib: can't. Gf just came home

lightningbolt2000: oh, that's cool. Tomorrow?

roonilwazlib: definitely :)

Hermione then stepped into the flat, her bushy hair twice the size it usually was in the humidity. She locked the door behind her and placed her keys in the small bowl on the counter. "Hello? Ron, I'm home."

"Hello, darling," Ron replied, rising to greet her with a kiss. "Did you have a good day?"

"It was alright. I got those reports in to the Health Department, but it was so hot in the office – haven't they ever heard of air conditioning? – and I think the woman next to me is retiring soon. What about you?"

"Oh, my day went pretty well. George is almost done with this new product he's developing, and I got past level 26!"

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "So you were on that game again?" Ron fidgeted under her stare, giving her the answer without words. "I keep telling you, soon you'll spend more time with that laptop than you do with real life human beings."

"I do spend time with human beings! I spend time with you, and George and I go to work every day and see all the customers."

"I'm only saying you shouldn't be so absorbed in that game– what's it called? Nature something?"

"Natural Defenders," Ron told her. "And anyway, I spend time with people on there, too. There's Lightning–"

"Lightning Bolt Two-Thousand, yes I know," Hermione said. "But how much do you actually know about them? About who they are in real life?"

"I–" Ron thought for a minute. "I know he–"

"Or she!"

"He's confirmed he's a bloke. He speaks English, which means he probably lives in a primarily English-speaking country. Hey, maybe he even lives in Britain!"

"I guess so," Hermione huffed. "So he speaks English, he could live in an English-speaking country, or he speaks many languages. Is that all?"

"No. Well, actually, yeah, I guess. But from when we talk, he seems very nice."

"You don't know what he's like in real life, though."

What if I did?

.o.o.o.O.o.o.o.

roonilwazlib: hey, you there?

lightningbolt2000: yup

roonilwazlib: not to be weird, but where do you live?

roonilwazlib: I'm not a murderer, I swear

lightningbolt2000: never said you were

lightningbolt2000: the UK

roonilwazlib: this is weird but, could you be more specific?

lightningbolt2000: England

roonilwazlib: *rolls eyes* a little bit more

lightningbolt2000: why?

roonilwazlib: I was thinking: what if we met irl?

lightningbolt2000: Oh. That'd actually be really cool. If we live near each other

roonilwazlib: yeah. I live in England too, btw

lightningbolt2000: cool! Do you live by london, any chance?

roonilwazlib: yeah. You?

lightningbolt2000: I live in london. East side

roonilwazlib: no way! West side

lightningbolt2000: oof, you're a west-sider?

rooniwazlib: well, if you wanna be like that: you're an east-sider?

lightningbolt2000: only kidding mate :)

roonilwazlib: I know :)

lightningbolt2000: so do you wanna meet up sometime? Grab coffee or something?

roonilwazlib: sure. Where should we meet?

lightningbolt2000: there's this cafe I really like. I could send you the address?

roonilwazlib: excellent. Please do :) when are you free?

lightningbolt2000: this sunday?

roonilwazlib: perfect. Look for a tall, freckly guy with bright red hair. I'll be wearing black converse

lightningbolt2000: cool. Look for a rather shorter guy with green eyes, round glasses, and black hair the messiest you've ever seen. I've also got a scar on my forehead. I'll wear black converse as well

roonilwazlib: see you there

lightningbolt2000: you too :)

roonilwazlib: :)

.o.o.o.O.o.o.o.

Over dinner the next day, Ron casually mentioned, "So, I'm actually gonna meet Lightning Bolt Two-Thousand."

Hermione's eyes bugged out and she swallowed her bite of noodles hastily. "You are?"

"Yup. This Sunday."

"Oh. Wow."

"What?"

"I just… when I mentioned to you the other day that you didn't know him in real life, I didn't realize you'd take it as a challenge."

"I'm not trying to challenge you. You just gave me the idea."

Hermione smiled. "Fine, then. But be careful: you never know what he could be like. I'd like you to call me when you get there and when you meet him."

Ron rolled his eyes, but smiled playfully. "Yes, dear."

"So, where does he live?"

"On the east side."

Hermione dropped her fork onto her plate with a clatter. "Of London?"

"Yeah. It's crazy, right?"

"To think, all this time, you've both just been a few train or bus rides away."

"Yeah, it's pretty crazy."

.o.o.o.O.o.o.o.

As was usual in London, it was raining. Ron pulled up his hood as he stepped off the underground. He climbed the steps out of the station, looking around and then down at his phone. He was just three blocks away from the cafe Lightning Bolt Two-Thousand had suggested they meet at. Ron realized that the guy had an actual name, which he'd be learning shortly.

Stowing his phone in his pocket so as not to get it wet, Ron hurried down a side alley that would provide a shortcut with his head bent, eager to get under a roof. Finally, he reached a small little hole-in-the-wall place with a faded red awning that simply read London Cafe. Ron ducked under the awning and quickly texted Hermione that he'd arrived. He searched around. No one was wearing black converse.

Checking his watch for the time, he saw he was five minutes early. Well, it couldn't hurt to get a table, he guessed. A few tables were outside and unoccupied, a little wet from the rain, but Ron didn't mind. He sat down, making sure his own black converse were visible to passersby, and observed the people passing by, some who'd thought to bring umbrellas unlike himself. After what felt like a long time, but was probably only a few minutes, Ron went back to his phone and began playing a game.

"Roonil Wazlib?" a voice said above him.

Ron looked up in surprise. "What? Oh, um, yeah, that's me." A man about his age who fit the exact description his online correspondent had given him stood before him carrying a black umbrella. Ron glanced down. He was wearing black converse.

Ron smiled and stood up to shake hands. "My real name's Ron. Ron Weasley. You're Lightning Bolt Two-Thousand?"

The guy smiled sheepishly. "Yeah. My real name's Harry, Harry Potter," he said, shaking Ron's hand.

"Right. So, Harry, would you like to sit?"

"Sure." The two sat down and Light– Harry – folded his umbrella and pulled down his coat hood, revealing hair exactly as he'd described it and a scar that looked like a real-life bolt of lightning splitting his forehead in two.

They sat in awkward silence for a while before Ron asked, "Is that where you got your user?", gesturing towards his forehead.

"What? Oh, yeah." He touched his hand to his scar and smiled sheepishly. He seemed to do that a lot. "Little bit stupid."

"Not really," Ron said, trying to make the shy guy feel better. "If you don't mind me asking, how'd you get it?"

"Oh, I don't mind. I was climbing a tree when I was six and fell and split my head open."

"Yikes."

"Yeah, it was pretty bad. But I kinda liked it because it looked like a lightning bolt, which, as a six year old, was pretty cool."

"Yeah. It really does look like lightning."

"Thanks." They fell into another awkward silence before L– Harry – cleared his throat. "So, what do you do for a living?"

"I work in a joke shop with my brother, George. We develop a lot of pranking products."

"That's interesting. I haven't got any siblings."

"You're lucky. I've got six."

"Six?" He let out a long, low whistle. "Wow. Bet you were never lonely growing up."

"That was the problem." Harry smiled at the joke. "So, what do you do for a living?" Ron asked.

"I'm training to become a teacher at a high school."

"Wow. You must have had a better school experience than I did."

"I don't really teach academics. I teach martial arts."

"Really? Like karate and stuff?"

"More like jujitsu, but I know a bit of karate."

The two fell into amicable chatter soon after. Ron told Harry about his family, girlfriend, and job, and he learned that Harry and him were only a few months apart in age. Harry lived alone while he trained to become a licensed jujitsu teacher. They both had very different tastes in music (Ron listened to pop while Harry preferred metal) but agreed on food (all food was delicious, but Indian food reigned supreme). They stayed at the cafe chatting and getting to know each other for almost two hours before they both realized what time it was.

"Well, it's almost time for me to get home," Ron said, standing up. "It was really great to meet you."

"You too. I have a feeling we're going to be very good friends."

"Indeed." They shook hands and headed away from the cafe, but it turned out that they were both going to the same train station.

Happy for the excuse to spend more time with each other, they walked slower than they might have normally done, continuing to pick up where they'd left off in their conversation. As they walked, Ron instinctively took the side alley he'd walked down before.

"And then he told me– Harry?" Ron looked around. Harry wasn't walking next to him anymore. Where'd he gone? "Harry?" he called again. "Where are you?"

"Well, my name isn't Harry, but if you're looking for some company…"

Ron whirled around to see a well-dressed man step from the shadows. He didn't have a briefcase, but rather deep pockets. He could have passed for any one of the masses of suit-clad office workers that commuted on the underground to and from their jobs. But something about this man made Ron's nerves on edge and the hair on the back of his neck stand on edge. Something made him feel like running away. He glanced towards the ends of the alley, looking for any passersby that might see what was happening, but mysteriously, everyone else had seemingly disappeared.

"Oh, don't think about running away now," the man drawled. "There's something that I rather want from you."

Ron began to sweat. "And what's that?"

"Oh, just anything valuable you have on you." He said it so casually, it took Ron a minute to register the demand.

"What?"

The man sighed as if talking to an insufferable child and reached into his pocket to pull out a handgun. He cokced it and aimed straight at Ron's head. "Maybe I should have been more clear. Give me all your money. Or my finger might just slip on this trigger–" Ron flinched and the maniac smiled insanely "– and no one will find you until it's too late, if they find you at all."

Ron put his hands above his head, his breath quickening as he panicked. "Listen, man, I don't know what you want–"

"I thought I made myself clear. I want your money."

"But I haven't really got anything, just five pounds," Ron whispered, terrified.

"Well, five pounds is some money, isn't it then? Now take it out and hand it over, and if you even think about reaching for your phone, any means to contact anyone, or any means of defense, I'll make good on my threat." He cokced the gun again threateningly and Ron's hands flew to his pockets to search for the money. It was surreal; it felt like he was in a movie. As far as he knew, people only got mugged in films, but here he was, shaking like a leaf and handing over a measeley five pounds for his life. He still might kill you anyway, his brain supplied helpfully.

Ron fumbled with his wallet and the man snarled. He quickly held out the cash in his trembling hand. The man reached out with his free hand to take it–

And the gun was knocked out of his other hand by… a foot? A foot wearing black converse.

The gun slid in slow motion towards Ron as his saviour grabbed the mugger, forced him on the floor in some kind of choke hold, restraining his arms and pinning his head down at once so he couldn't move.

"Ron, grab the gun, quickly," the newcomer said, sounding oddly familiar, his voice shaking slightly. The mugger struggled. "Do it!"

Ron was startled out of his shock and picked up the gun gingerly.

"Now point it at his head," Harry said evenly. "Aim carefully."

Ron did as he was told with shaking hands.

"Now," Harry said, addressing his captive, "you're going to do exactly as I say, and if you don't, my friend will blow your head off." Ron had to restrain himself from whimpering. "I'm going to let you stand up. You will hold perfectly still while we do what we need to and then I will let you go. My friend will keep his money, and then you are going to run far, far away. Is that clear? Whimper if it is." The man whimpered. "Good. Ron, keep that gun steady."

Harry released the man and he stood hurriedly, brushing himself off, and then stilling when he remembered the instructions.

"Ron, take out your phone. Good. Now, take a picture of him. And you, keep your eyes open," he snarled at the mugger. Ron complied and took the picture with one hand, still holding and pointing the gun with the other. "Now take a picture of his suit and shoes." Ron did so. "Now, I am going to let you go," Harry said. "And if you try to do anything else but run, I will take you down again and hand you in straight to the police. After we shoot you, of course. Am I clear?" The man whimpered in affirmation. "Excellent."

Harry roughly shoved the man to the edge of the alley, and Ron remembered to point the gun at the man's head. The guy stared back in fear at Harry and sneered at Ron before running away.

Ron let out a shuddering breath and dropped the gun, sliding down the wall to sit and bury his face in his hands. Harry was by his side immediately. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Ron said hoarsely. "Just… give me a minute."

"Of course." Harry went over and picked up the gun.

"What do you need that for?" Ron asked, eyeing it warily.

"We can use it as evidence," Harry explained. "With the fingerprints on this, and the pictures you took, we'll have enough evidence for the police to maybe find him, or at least tell people to keep a look out for him."

"That was… incredibly smart of you," Ron said.

Harry smiled his sheepish smile again and ducked his head, back to the role of the unassuming fellow gamer Ron had thought he was. "Thanks. My dad's a policeman, so he's taught me a few things."

"I'm lucky he did. Was that jujistu?"

"Yup." Harry smiled proudly. "A standard takedown from behind."

"That was really cool. And you saved my life. Seriously," Ron said as Harry opened his mouth to deny it. "Thank you."

Harry opened and closed his mouth. "You're welcome," he said finally. "Friends stick together through thick and thin, right?"

"Yeah," Ron said. "Though I can't promise I can take down a mugger for you."

Harry laughed. "Don't worry about it." He held out an arm and Ron took it and stood up. "Should we go report this bastard to the police?"

"Let's." The two men walked out of the alley after Harry stowed the gun surreptitiously in his pocket. "You know, you can be incredibly scary when you want to be," Ron told him.

"I'll take that as a compliment."

~Fin~


End file.
